To Lead the Shepherds
by Qyx
Summary: It takes more than friendship and wit to halt the coming of the Fell Dragon. Follow Robin from his awakening upon the grassy field to the unraveling of Time itself in order to form those unshakeable bonds vital to stop Grima. A retelling of Fire Emblem Awakening.
1. Chapter 1 : Invisible Ties

Chapter 1 : Invisible Ties

The great sword Falchion hissed as it missed its target, piercing the air with a ferocity matched only by the man wielding it.

Chrom rushed forward, aiming his strike towards the heart of the the man in front of him. Validar leapt. His darkened skin flashed as magic coarsed through his veins, propelling him far past the reach of Chrom's Falchion.

"Up there!" Chrom shouted. Behind him, a hooded figure instantly reacted as arcane flame began to form in a heavy-sleeved hand.

Validar wasted no time, returning fire with a jolt of unholy magic that knocked Chrom and his companion off their feet.

Smoke filled the air. Chrom coughed as he struggled to stand, leaning on his sword. His pupils shrunk and immediately dilated once more as an orb of dark energy whizzed through the air towards his vulnerable face.

"Die!" Validar screamed.

A great ball of fire immediately intercepted the purple orb, dismantling Chrom's progress at standing up as the three figures in the room scrambled to return to their feet. Chrom staggered to his companion, all the while eyeing Validar as both belligerents gathred their energy.

Chrom clapped a shaking hand on his ally's shoulder, while his other clutched his sword.

"This is it. Our final battle." He breathed. "You're one of us, Robin, and no "destiny" can change that."

His companion stood up, hood thrown back. A mop of white hair sat atop a serious face, with eyes locked on to the dark mage standing across the room. Lightning crackled in Robin's right hand, the eerie symbol on his right hand glowing.

"Never." He affirmed.

Chrom nodded. "Now let's kill this dastard and be done with it!"

The two young men charged forward, their shoulders in line with each other. In Chrom's hands was Falchion, long revered blade of kings. In Robin's hand crackled arcane energy, his eyes bright as he resisted the urge to release it prematurely.

"Why do you resist?!" Validar cackled.

Dark energy began forming around Robin, pulsing menacingly as Validar continued his chanting.

Chrom leapt forward with inhuman speed, Falchion becoming a blur as it sought Validar's heart once more. Validar responded with his own dodge, but not before Falchion drew dark blood as Chrom sliced open Validar's arm.

"Wha-" Validar began.

In the briefest of pauses, Robin struck. His bolt of lightning managed to strike that which Falcion had not, piercing Validar's robe and body as pure energy shocked the dark mage. Validar choked, dropping to his knees as energy swirled seemingly out of nowhere, his eyes and body bleeding wisps of magic.

Robin fell on one knee, his energy spent. Chrom, the more physically fit of the two, confirmed their victory and reached to Robin to pull him up.

"THIS ISN'T OVER!" Validar screamed, energy coalescing. "DAMN YOU BOTH!"

With his final fell breath, Validar condemend the duo of heroes, sending a spiteful last strike at the complacent swordsman.

Robin called upon his last reserves of energy, shoving Chrom out of the way and pushing his own body in the path of the missile.

Robin's eyes shot open, red lines blocking his vision as he breathed uneasily. Smoke rose from his robes, which, thankfully, were still intact for the most part.

The missile hadn't been strong, and he had survived.

Chrom ran to Robin from his rough landing, taking Robin by the shoulders and pulling him up. His eyes worriedly looked the hooded mage up and down before a sigh of relief escaped his cracked lips.

"You alright?" He asked.

Robin nodded, looking towards their adversary. Validar's body was dissipitating, threads of magical smoke disappearing into the air as the corpse seemed to fade.

"That's the end of him." Chrom said.

Robin could only breathe deeply. It seemed unreal.

Chrom weakly clapped Robin on the shoulder.

"Thanks to you we carried the day." He sighed. "You can rest easy no-"

Robin began shaking.

"What's wrong? Hey, he-" Chrom gasped.

The faint red in Robin's vision became bloody crimson, whispers invading his vulnerable mind. His hand shot forward into Chrom's abdomen, a bolt of hissing lightning guided to Chrom's weakened body.

Chrom staggered backward, his hand frantically clawing his wound. His breathing became ragged, Falcion dropping to the ground uselessly.

Robin could only look in horror at what he had done.

Chrom gasped for air, his final words tumbling clumsily out of his mouth.

"This is not your - your fault." He coughed. "Promise me...you'll escape from this place."

Robin could only back away, hand still crackling from the lightning bolt he had shoved into his best friend's chest.

"Please...go..." Chrom rasped, before his body hit the ground.

Robin's mouth dropped open, lips shaking in his act of betrayal. A laugh began to sound in his mind, gradually infecting his own mouth until he couldn't tell whose laugh it was anymore.

His mind's whispers reached a coarse crescendo, until only one word silenced all the rest.

_Grima..._


	2. Chapter 2 : The Road to Southtown

Chapter 2: Southtown Borders

Upon a grassy knoll, slept a young man.

He was hooded, and his cloak gleamed with malevolent eye symbols that seemed to follow the viewer no matter how they shifted uncomfortably. He lay upon the quiet grass, a blade strapped to his belt and a tome lazily brushed by the wind near his fingertips. White hair poked out under the hood, contrasting the dark clothing.

He mumbled as he slept, ghosts of broken memories haunting his thoughts. He tossed and turned, dreaming of violence, of wars, and of brotherhood born through the greatest of trials.

It was upon this grassy hill that two shadows came to tower over the man.

"Chrom, we have to do _something_." A female voice rang out.

The man's eyes squinted, his slumber disturbed by the bell-like voice.

"What do you propose we do?" A royal baritone answered the chimes.

"I-dunno..."

The slumbering man opened his eyes. Light streamed in, illuminating the figures before him.

On his right was a cheerful girl, her hair done up in stubborn twintails and herself clad in a modest dress hugged by frills. Her hands behind her back held a wooden staff, topped off with a glowing orb flanked by intricate spirals.

On his left was regality incarnate; a blue haired man with a single shoulderpad, wrapped in light armor and a cape that marked his nobility. An equally royal sword was fastened to his belt, with a teardrop guard and a blade through which the sun reflected brilliantly.

"I see you're awake now." The noble man remarked.

"Hey there!" chirped his female companion.

The sleeper groaned. The slumber had not prepared his eyes for the bright invasion, much less the welcome party.

A laugh escaped the standing noble. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand."

The now-awake white haired man hesitated, then obliged. He gripped the man's outstretched hand and was pulled up by a hardy strength. He dusted himself off.

"You alright?" The royal inquired.

"Y-Yes. Thank you, Chrom." The awoken sleeper said.

"Ah, then you know who I am?"

The white haired man flinched. "No...your name. It just came to me."

Chrom furrowed his brow. "...Curious. Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?"

The sleeper rubbed his head. "My name is...It's..."

"You don't remember your own name?" Chrom inquired.

The female piped up. "I know what this is! It's called amnesia! It's when you forget everything!"

"It's _called_ a load of Pegasus dung." An iron voice rang out.

Armored boots approached a perking Robin's attention toward the low clanking of metal on hard dirt. A stern knight in full armor approached. Flawless armor shone as brightly as Chrom's blade, with not a single sign of disrepair in sight. Robin hurried to tidy himself up before the pinnacle of cleanliness before him, only to forgo his task when he realized it would be unbecoming to pick strands of grass out of his hair.

"We're to believe you remember milord's name, but not your own?" Frederick snorted.

The amnesiac put up his hands. "It's-It's the truth!"

Chrom stepped between the men. "What if he's telling the truth, Frederick? I won't leave a troubled man in Ylisse without help. What kind of Shepherds would we be then?"

Frederick was nonplussed. "I understand, milord. But caution must be upheld. 'Twould not do to let a wolf in our flock."

The sleeper seemed offended. "Look, I don't know what kind of man you take me for, but-"

Chrom held up his hand, a regal air signaling that it was his decision in the end. "We'll take you back to Southtown and sort this out."

The sleeper shot a glare. "And I'm to have no say in this?"

Chrom's only response was to adopt a pacifying stance. "Peace, friend. I promise we'll hear you out once we reach Southtown. Now come.

Frederick looked at the sleeper with a disapproving frown. "It would be best for you, sir, if you watch yourself when you address milord." He turned away, strolling towards the road.

Chrom and the girl followed, and there was naught else to do but trudge slowly behind as the trio began to march.

The travel was slow, with Chrom and the spirited girl talking animatedly about subjects which were unfathomable to the amnesiac. The knight marched vigilantly, stopping to remove large pebbles which seemed to irk him.

To the amnesiac, it was an agonizing travel. His own fate seemed helpless, especially when the knight would turn back to lock a watchful eye on him as if to ensure that he was still following.

_Though the land is beautiful._ And it was true. A vast sky smiled upon a graceful plain, swaying with the breeze. It was not difficult to imagine falling asleep under the azure expanse above, cushioned by the soft grass and the distant whinneying of a horse.

A sudden stop interrupted the amnesiac from his thoughts. The Chrom and the girl had halted, and he slowed his approach. They seemed to be discussing something obscure; with mentions of an Exalt reaching the amnesiac's ears. Ahead, the knight had gone on a spree of stone-removing.

He waited and interjected once a pause had finally broken the conversation.

"Once, we reach this Southtown," he said tentatively, "what will you do with me? Am I being held prisoner?"

Chrom chuckled. "You'll be free to go once we can make sure that you're no enemy of Ylisse."

The amnesiac frowned. "That's where we are? Ylisse?"

The clanking of metal on road announced the return of the knight, a too-familiar look of suspicious disbelief on his visage. "You're saying you don't know of Ylisse?! You play quite the fool, sir! Milord, ought we hire this man for court jester?"

Chrom remained calm, oblivious to the simmering amnesiac before him.

"This beautiful land," he answered, gesturing to the idyllic scenery around the group, "is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. Our leader, called the Exalt Emmeryn, rules over it and maintains its peace. I am Chrom, as you know. This is my delicate sister, Lissa."

"I am NOT delicate! Please forgive this ignorant brother of mine." Lissa fumed, sticking her tongue at her sibling. She returned her gaze to the amnesiac. "But really, you're lucky us Shepherds found you. Bandits wouldn't have taken the time to wake you so politely!"

The amnesiac reflexively began to note the information. "Shepherds? But you're in full battle armor. What Shepherds tend sheep whilst combat ready?"

Chrom smiled. "It can get dangerous at times. That's why we have Sir Frederick the Overly Careful."

The knight seemed unperturbed. "A title I uphold with pride and rigor. Gods forbid one of us maintains proper caution. I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but understand that my position mandates otherwise."

The amnesiac nodded reluctantly. "I understand, sir, and I- ". A sudden chirp of a bird rang out, and an orange-silver blur flew past and landed on a nearby tree. The man buckled, a headache interrupting his speech.

Chrom hurried worriedly to his side. "You alright?"

The man recovered, holding his head. "Robin."

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's my name. I just remembered." He turned his eyes upward toward the innocently singing avian. "Though I hate the _blasted_ things…"

Chrom stared, first at Robin and then at the bird. Then he broke out in peals laughter, followed by Lissa's squeals and even a chuckle from Frederick.

Robin simply wrung his hands, an embarrassed grin pulling the corners of his mouth upward.

"I suppose there are worse names to be had, Robin." Lissa said cheerfully.

Frederick had already turned towards the road. "Foreign names aside, we must keep on foot, milady."

As the strange group continued on, Robin felt that he had made some progress with the trio of strangers. Lissa asked Robin all types of questions, a situation which Robin felt was quite backward as _he_ was the resident amnesiac.

"Where'd you get that cloak? What's with the creepy eyes? And what's with the thing on the back of your hand?"

Her last interrogative startled Robin. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Look!" she said, pointing to his right hand.

He acquiesced and looked. On the back of his hand was an eerie symbol composed of six eyes, arranged in an oblong pattern. It seemed malicious, almost, and Robin felt sick as the eyes seemed to follow him from his own skin.

"I…don't know." He answered awkwardly. "I guess it's one of the things I forgot."

Lissa seemed unsatisfied. "But you've got to remember _some-_" she started.

"Milord, milady! The town!" Frederick's exclamation quickly ended Lissa's train of though. The knight pointed ahead, where what Robin assumed to be Southtown was nestled against a small forest area. It would have been another addition to Ylisse's peaceful countryside, if not for the flames dancing upon the rooftops.

Chrom immediately leapt into action. "Damn it! Bandits, or worse! Frederick! Lissa! Move!"

Frederick immediately broke into a run, but paused. "And what of him?" He asked, gesturing towards the bewildered Robin.

Chrom never stopped his run, shouting behind him, "Unless he's on fire, it can wait! Go!"

Lissa soon rushed after them, leaving Robin behind.

It followed therefore, that there was naught else to do but come along as well.

The first house Chrom reached had just begun crowning, flames leaping from its neighbor to the thatched roof of its own. The door was flung open, and inside was the image of chaos. Chairs were broken, tables overturned, and spare coins lay forgotten. The place had been ruined, upheaved as merciless men looked for any sign of valuables.

It was, if nothing else, a chilling sight.

Chrom quickly glanced around and beckoned for his companions to keep on moving.

Frederick's watchful eyes scanned the sorrowful scene before him, searching for any sign of those responsible for the attack.

"Over there!" Lissa hissed, pointing beyond two abandoned houses.

Near the town hall were a gaggle of roughly dressed men, headed by what could only be their leader.

"Ha ha! Hop to it lads! Grab anything shiny and burn anything else! We're rich today!" belched a tub-bellied giant of a man. He stood in front of the former town hall, a wine bottle in one hand and bag of gold in the other.

Lissa grimaced. "Chrom, we have to stop them!"

Chrom reached for his sword. "Dastard" he whispered. "Don't worry, these bandits won't be harming anyone after today. Frederick, on my mar-"

"Wait!"

The trio turned to see Robin rushing up to them, cloak flapping wildly.

"Robin? You followed us? But why?" Chrom asked urgently.

Robin panted. "I'm…not so sure. But I'm armed, and if you'll allow me I'll help you."

Chrom hesitated, but a smile soon broke out on his face. "Strength in numbers, I suppose. Just stay close!"

Frederick shifted his lance, his eyes never leaving the celebrating bandits.

"Very well." He muttered. "Just be warned, Robin. These are practiced thieves and bandits. It is life or death, do you understand?"

"Right." Robin affirmed.

He began to scrutinize the situation reflexively, eyes carefully scanning for key points in the group of men before them.

"Alright, like I was saying. On my mark Fred-." Chrom began.

"No." Robin interrupted. Chrom looked at him quizzically.

Robin waved his hands in an attempt to explain. "I don't know why, but I can see…things. "

Chrom gripped his sword, impatient to begin dishing out justice. "Explain." He commanded.

Robin squinted. "The enemy's strength, mobility, the general of flow of battle, the little details…I can see all these things." He tried. Chrom only tilted his head, whilst Frederick began tapping his foot.

Robin frantically tried to get his companions to understand. "Look. In between us and the main group of men are three stragglers, still searching the houses. If we rush in we'll get attacked from behind whilst also having to deal with the main group up ahead. "

Chrom, Frederick, and Lissa looked to confirm Robin's words. Indeed, they rang true – there were still men poking through the houses, looking for any last traces of loot.

Robin continued. "It would be wise to eliminate them. Afterwards, there is only a bridge left between us and the leading group. We can't attack head on, unless you two think you can fight six men at once."

"And what do you propose we do?" Frederick asked, his interest piqued.

Robin glanced at the knight, and put his own hand on his sword.

"First we take down the stragglers. Should be simple – they don't expect some heroes to come slashing their throats. After that…" Robin paused, fishing in his cloak.

"After that…?" Chrom asked, eyebrows raised.

Robin held up a small lightning tome, the book he had had on his person. "After that, we do a bit of shock and awe."

Lissa groaned at the pun, whilst Chrom was genuinely surprised. "You can use magic? "

Robin's eyes darted to the tome, and back to Chrom. "I…think so? I'm sure I can control it."

This was enough for Frederick. "Milord, we have dwindling time. The plan seems solid, and we need to hurry."

Robin agreed. "Right."

Chrom turned, and Lissa followed. Robin waited, and realized that Frederick wasn't moving. He looked to the knight.

Frederick simply put on a grim smile and motioned with his gauntlet. "Twould not do to put a wolf in our flock." He repeated.

Robin could only respond with a chuckle. "Of course." He replied. He moved forward, ignoring the clank of metal boots behind him and focusing on the plan.

It was apparently an exciting time to be an amnesiac.


End file.
